her head later, she stumbled toward her needy children. Women manage alone all the time, she reminded herself. It's good preparation for your life ahead.
Tears gathered, but she blinked them away. She needed to be clear-eyed to wash the despicable bowl. Next she wiped down Duncan's and Oliver's faces with a cool, wet cloth. When she asked them if they could take a sip of water, they didn't bother answering. She was a little more forceful about offering the pediatric drink that she tried to foist off as "juice," but they both turned their faces away.
In a last-ditch effort, she dangled the image of cold cola - a rare treat - and it was testament to how ill they felt that neither gave a twitch.
Rebecca's footsteps sounded zombielike as she moved from the bathroom back to her bed. Tess wet another washcloth and bathed her daughter's face as she lay sprawled on the mattress. The cell phone on the small table beside Rebecca's pillow started a little dance. Things were serious when the teenager didn't even reach for the device to check the sender of the text.
"I want Daddy," Rebecca moaned, her eyes squeezed shut.
Things were serious indeed. Her daughter hadn't called her father "Daddy" since her thirteenth birthday. David, Tess thought, then pinched off the fruitless longing. He was somewhere pushing pedals in circles or lifting a weight that wasn't the weight of their family's situation.
She stood over her daughter, rocking the baby back and forth. Perhaps the movement would counterbalance the seasick feeling in her stomach. Her decision-making process felt just as unbalanced as she pondered her options. "Maybe I should call Uncle Griff," she said.
One of Rebecca's eyes opened. "You called Uncle Griff. He said he was rushing right over...to put a quarantine sign on the door."
"I didn't tell him we needed help." That had been eight hours ago, when she'd thought the kids were suffering from a mild tummy bug.
"If you call next door again," Rebecca said, "ask for Jane. Men aren't any good at caretaking."
More tears burned behind Tess's eyes. Her lovely, sweet, trusting little girl had already been disappointed enough to internalize that message. Men aren't any good at caretaking. Hadn't her father given up on that job during the past few months?
Anger added itself to Tess's mix of sickness and sadness. David had done this! David had fractured Rebecca's faith. The thought put a bit of steel in her spine, and she sought to reassure her teenager. "I'm here to take care of us. We don't need anyone but me."
One-handed, she pulled up the covers around Rebecca's neck while the other hand balanced Russ, draped over her shoulder. Then she put the drowsing baby down in his crib and ignored her own queasiness to gather the clothes and towels strewn around the house. She filled the washing machine and pressed Start, just as she heard yet another round of retching.
Duncan or Oliver or possibly both had missed the bowl. Standing in the doorway of her bedroom, holding on to the jamb to keep herself upright, she stared at the miserable children and the messed sheets. For just a moment she envisioned that other life she'd stopped fantasizing about the night David had dropped by with his carton of files. It beckoned more seductively than before. Shared custody - and they'd be sick on David's watch. Hours of blissful alone time. A different man with whom she could play on the beach while her children were someone else's responsibility.
"Mommy," Duncan whispered.
The plaintive word broke her heart. She hurried toward her little guy. "Mommy's here," she assured him, as she moved forward to tackle the task of changing sheets and pajamas. "Mommy will always be here."
A couple of hours later a knock roused her. She'd been half-asleep on the living room couch, the baby slumbering on her chest. Her movement woke him, and he started to cry a little.
Tess just managed not to join him as she pulled open the door. Her brother stood on the doorstep. "Plague over?" he asked. "I've brought provisions for you and the minions." He waved a greasy bag in her face that was branded with the golden arches.
The smell of the burgers and fries - usually one of her favorites in the whole world - wafted in on a briny breeze.
Tess felt herself go green. Then, Russ still in her arms, she slammed the door in Griffin's face and ran to the kitchen sink where she left the contents